


It Takes the Bake

by l1ls3b



Category: Golden Girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:51:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l1ls3b/pseuds/l1ls3b
Summary: Sophia spices up an otherwise boring day with another one of her schemes. Utter fluff.





	It Takes the Bake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celeria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeria/gifts).



[Intro music dies down as we enter the scene. Dorothy and Rose are sitting on the couch. Dorothy is wearing a large purple sweater with shoulder pads and the sleeves pushed up, a long flowy blue skirt with a floral pattern, and a large, chunky beaded necklace. Rose is wearing a thick shirt with blue and white vertical stripes and light pink flowers mixed with fake pearl beading, both stitched on the shoulder and the opposing bottom side, as well as white pants and white tennis shoes. They are watching the Price is Right, it is midday]

Bob Barker (on the TV set): “Right here with have a certified American-made, stainless steel egg beater, a SONY VHS player, and a hand-cranked ice-cream machine!  
Okay Fred, what’s your bid?”  
Fred, “I’m going to say 10$ Bob.”

Bob, “Alllright! How about you Alana?”  
Alana, “I’m going to go with 200$ Bob!”  
Dorothy says, with a look of angry disinterest, “My god, have these people never purchased anything before?”  
Rose replies, “Well I’ve never seen an egg-beater like that before, I don’t blame them. Back in Saint Olaf we didn’t have egg-beaters.”  
Dorothy looks at Rose, surprised, “How on Earth did you beat your eggs?”  
Rose explains, squinching up her eyes a little bit, “Well, for a long time we only had one egg-beater, and his name was Johan Gersterschofen. Everyone would bring their eggs to him to have them beaten, day or night.”  
Dorothy now rests her elbow on her knee, with her fingers curled up in front of her mouth, brows furrowed.  
“When Johan died people panicked. Everyone tried their best to beat the eggs but no one had any idea how to do it, most people didn’t even realize you couldn’t leave the shell in there. But one day Johan’s nephew, Sven Bjornson, found a book in Johan’s house that looked like it had been passed down for generations. Inside it had a recipe for scrambling eggs. It said, crack egg on side of bowl, use fork to beat thoroughly. That book changed Saint Olaf forever.”  
Dorothy, “Wow. I’m at a loss for words.”  
Rose looks at Dorothy, concerned, “Where did you have them last?”  
Dorothy shoots Rose and exasperated look.  
As Rose is about to respond, likely with more fascinating and long stories about Saint Olaf, Sophia bursts through the door.  
[Sophia is wearing a blue cardigan with a white button-up shirt with a peter pan collar. She has on a long, dark blue and green, plaid skirt. She is carrying her white wicker bag and wears white Keds].  
“Okay, I need the kitchen for the rest of the week and no, I will not be fielding questions at this time.”  
Dorothy and Rose looked at Sofia as she shuffled across the room with determination.  
“Ma, what on Earth could you need the kitchen that long for?”, Dorothy asked incredulously.  
“To make some nunya,” Sofia explained as she walked through the kitchen door.  
Rose sat up from the couch and loudly asked, “What’s that?”  
Sofia opens the kitchen door ever so slightly and yells, “None ya’ business!”  
___________________

[Music comes on, scene fades out. Blanche, Dorothy, and Rose are sitting in the living room later that day. Blanche is wearing a green satin top with a black satin tank top underneath with matching green satin pants. Blanche is wearing a dainty gold bracelet and black strappy kitten heels.]

“What in the world could she be up to in there?” Blanche asked the others, increasingly impatient with the unknown circumstances for Sophia’s kitchen takeover.  
“You know just as well as we do Blanche.  
She’s been in there for nearly eight hours. Quite frankly, I’m starting to get  
a little worried. We haven’t heard any sound for a while,” said Dorothy with  
concern (though she clearly also wants to know what in God’s name is going on  
in there).  
Rose adds, “Yeah and come to think of  
it, it smells a little bit like something is burning!”  
“You know sometimes when Ma makes her coffee  
she forgets and lets it burn. But she has to make it in those mokas  
of course, because back in Sicily, that’s how they do it,” Dorothy says,  
rolling her eyes a bit.  
“Well I think for Sophia’s own safety we  
ought to go check on her,” states Blanche with authority, “Besides, I’m meeting  
a date in 30 minutes for “drinks” and I have just got to know what is going on  
in there. Otherwise I won’t be able to think about anything else all night! Or  
at least, I will only be able to think about two things all night!” she adds  
with a wry smile.  
Blanche, Rose, and Dorothy all gingerly  
make their way over to the kitchen door. It’s unlocked. Dorothy comes in first,  
only to find Sophia fast asleep standing up and nearly every surface in the  
kitchen covered in small cups in varying states of filled-ness. She has a  
smoking sabayon in front of her.  
“Ma wake up! What are you doing?!”  
Dorothy yells.  
“34!” Sophia shouts as she snaps to, “Oh  
my goodness, I had a dream I was in school again.”  
“Ma, something's burning!”  
“Oh god, I must’ve been so tired I  
didn’t use a double-boiler. How long was I out?”  
Rose responds, “How should we know? We  
don’t have x-ray vision!”  
“Yeah, you’ve been slapping us with a  
spoon every time we’ve tried to come in here, so we gave up!” Blanche added.  
“Well, in my defense, you are very  
annoying,” Sophia retorts. They all remember that they are in a room that looks  
like it got taken over by 50 Julia Childs.  
“What is going on in here?” Dorothy asks, “Since when did you start collecting small dessert cups?”  
“I didn’t. I got them today. I’m making classic Italian Tiramisu like my nonna made it, but in little cups that these new-age yuppies will go bananas for,” Sophia explains,“ But I’ve really fallen behind in production.”  
Rose and Blanche sit down at the kitchen table, or at least as much as they can considering the encroaching cup situation.  
“But why are you making enough Tiramisu to feed a small and very hungry army mother?” says Dorothy, with one eyebrow cocked and her arms crossed.  
“Ah, well, I guess the jig is up now anyway,” Sophia sighs. “I heard about this bake for charity thing the other week while I was out playing canasta. A free flight to anywhere in the world for whoever sold the most desserts! Knowing I had this recipe up my sleeve I thought, “No sweat!” but I got distracted by Billy Grish who I caught pulling cards out of his sweater. Anyway, long story short I didn’t write it down and I only just remembered this morning. I didn’t tell you because I thought I had it in the bag. I wanted to surprise you with a trip to Sicily, Pussycat. I wanted to show you the old country and maybe, just maybe, find you a nice man with below average eyesight. But now it’s too late. I’ll never make enough to win now,” Sophia says, looking crestfallen.  
“It’s not too late! We can all help you Sophia!” says Rose.  
“Yeah! We’ll stay up all night, it’ll be so much fun. It’ll be just like a sleepover except with women and without…it’ll be so much fun!” Blanche chimes in.  
“But what about your hot date Blanche?” reminds Dorothy.  
“Oh well, I didn’t want to dry clean this outfit anyway. I’ll call right now and cancel.”  
Sophia looks at everyone, “I am so touched. You know, you girls are really something special,” she says holding Dorothy’s hand. They all smile at each other, taking the moment in.  
“Okay well, break’s over everybody!” Sophia says, letting go of Dorothy’ hand. “Rose, you’re on custard dolloping duty. Blanche, you are working on lady fingers. Dorothy, you’re going to fold the mascarpone into the eggs as fast but as gently as possible. Break!”  
[Everyone starts hurriedly in on their tasks. Scene fades out]  
_____________

[It is dawn. Sophia, Rose, Blanche, and Dorothy are all in the kitchen still working, but very slowly. They all have bits of cocoa powder, custard, egg, and mascarpone covering their clothes and bodies]  
“So much for not having to go to the dry cleaners,” Blanche laments.  
“Are we done yet?” Rose says yawning, “I wanna go to bed.”  
“Almost!” Sophia says, showing no signs of wearing down. “I’m just finishing the last one.” She expertly sifts cocoa powder over the last trendy plastic cup and exclaims, “Yes! Now all we gotta do is take this down to the country club.”  
“Oh God, how will we manage that?!” Dorothy shouts, with a mix of desperation and sheer exhaustion.  
“Don’t worry, I got that covered. I made Billy an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Sophia explains.  
“Ma, you threatened to kill him?” Dorothy says in disbelief.  
“No, of course not you nitwit, I told him if he didn’t do me this favor I would tell everyone in the canasta group that I saw him cheating!” Sophia exclaims. She puts her fingers in her mouth and whistles, and a bevy of young attractive men come through the kitchen door with bakery trays and racks. “Who knew Billy owned a catering company!”  
Blanche eyes all the incoming faces, “I call shotgun!” she says as she leaves the kitchen winking at all the workers. “I can’t wait to get my hands on these buns.”  
“But Blanche, we made tiramisu, not buns,” says Rose, befuddled.  
Blanche is partly in the doorway and looks back at Rose, “I know,” she says, all too pleased with herself.  
[Scene fades out as everyone else begins to load the desserts onto the trays.]  
_____________

[It is later that day. The ladies come in the house one by one, completely out of energy. They each plop heavily onto the couch and chairs and sigh, again, one by one.]  
“I cannot believe what just happened,” Dorothy says, dead in the eyes.  
“Me neither,” Rose adds, looking like the world’s saddest puppy.  
“Me neither,” says Blanche breathily. She adds, “You know the thing about the catering business is that it makes your arms so strong, and your hands so quick. And that really makes a difference when it comes to-”  
“Don’t,” interrupts Dorothy, giving Blanche the death glare.  
“Fine,” Blanche says huffily, pursing her lips and crossing her arms.  
“It was rigged I tell you! That slut Mary Brown has been sleeping with one of the judges,” proclaims Sophia.  
“Ma! Come on, her apple pie was very good,” Dorothy says. Then she narrows her eyes a little bit and thinks. “It is a little suspicious…it looked like she didn’t have as much pie as we had tiramisu. And it could’ve used a bit more cinnamon!”  
Sophia sighs again.  
“Ah, who am I kidding. That pie was the best I’ve ever had in my whole life. I’m just disappointed that after all that work I’ve got nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero,” Sophia laments.  
“Now wait just a second! With that tiramisu we raised hundreds of dollars for charity. They said that they made enough money to open a new food bank! Doesn’t that count for something?” Rose protests.  
“You know what Rose, you make a good point. That is something to be proud of, don’t you think ma?” Dorothy asks.  
“I guess so Pussycat. I still miss Sicily so much. I have never been able to share that part of my life with you,” Sophia says. Dorothy walks over to where Sophia is sitting and holds her hand.  
“You do that all the time with your stories! I don’t have to go there to share that with you,” Dorothy says, gently squeezing Sophia’s hand. Sophia smiles. “But you know what, if you want to go back and visit, we can start saving for a trip now.”  
Dorothy goes into the kitchen and gets a large jar. She puts ten dollars into it. “Every time we reach 50 bucks we can take it into the bank and put it in a savings account.” She hands the jar to Sophia.  
“That is a great idea!” Sophia looks at the jar then shakes it. “It’s looking a little empty though doesn’t it Rose?”  
“I guess,” says Rose. Sophia looks towards Roses purse then back at her. “Doesn’t it?” Sophia states again, now eyeing Blanche and her purse. They both hesitate but break out their wallets.  
“Oh fine Sophia,” Blanche says, putting her cash into the jar. “But only because you haven’t got the rest of your life ahead of you to go on trips like this, like me.” Rose stuffs a few bills in of her own.  
“That’s it?” Sophia says.  
“Ma!” exclaims Dorothy.  
“Okay, okay,” Sophia says begrudgingly. “Anyway, I wanted to say, thank you all for helping me out. It really means a lot.” The girls all smile sweetly at each other. Sophia gets up and walks towards the door.  
“Where are you going?” Dorothy inquires.  
“I’m going to go put this money with the rest of my savings, buried where no one will find it.”  
“What?!” Dorothy interjects.  
“I’ve said too much,” Sophia says as she makes her way out the door.  
Dorothy gets up to follow her, “We are taking it to the bank Ma, the bank! Not some spot on a map marked with an X!”  
[Scene freezes and fades out as closing music plays.]


End file.
